The Breeze Chronicles: Ascension
by The Final Shadow
Summary: Hit Girl has fled from New York to London, where she meets one of the last remaining super heroes, The Breeze. Together with new friends and old friends, they come up against their biggest challenges yet. -BASED SOLELY ON THE MOVIES- ships; OC/OC dave-kickass/ Mindy-hit girl


They say that there is no such thing as superheroes. That the world is always destined to have bad people in it and no one to stand up to them. Sure there was the laws the government had in place to prevent crime and there was Metropolitan Police Force whose job it was to enforce those same laws. But even some of them were corrupt. You were always hearing on the news or in the newspapers about this police officer or that who had been discovered to have used his or her job to suppress a crime they'd committed.

At the end of the day, the world was a pretty fucked up place without anyone to unfuck it. Just look at my life for example. No, I hadn't been the subject of some government scandal or police abuse; mine was something much worse. I never knew my parents. My Dad walked out before I was born, and my Mum was an Amphetamine junkie who died while I was halfway out of the womb. The authorities did manage to find my Dad – locked up in Her Majesty's Prison Brixton for dealing in drugs. Thinking about it now, it was pretty clear my Dad was the one who got my Mum hooked. In essence, the fucked up world I lived in started before I was even born.

It was when I was five that the really freaky shit started happening. I'd been living in the same foster home since I had been born – we called it the 'Shithole', which it was. Suffice to say, I had never really gelled with the other kids there. Apparently, there was something weird about me. Something, that put the other kids on edge. It was around this time that I started to even creep out the care workers as well. In my defense, I had no idea what I was doing at the time and had never heard the expression, "with great power, comes great responsibility."

Anyway, at the age of five I really lost it, and mean really lost it. Some kid had stolen one of my stuffed animals; which were the only friends I had, so reacted pretty badly. Suffice to say, when it was dinnertime, I tried to report it and was dismissed with a flippant wave of a hand and told to eat my Spaghetti and Meatballs. In a fit of anger, I picked up a meatball with my hand and tossed it at the care worker and hit her in the eye from across the dinner hall, then I did it a second and third time and hit the same spot.

Sounds crazy right. Well to make things even more crazy, that night after lights out I discovered I could see in the dark. Yeah I know everyone can see in the dark after a moment or two for their eyes to adjust, but in my case, the place looked almost as bright as it did during the day – it seems I have super night-vision. Another thing I have discovered, is that I seem to be naturally athletic; I can run a couple hundred meters in a couple seconds, but that didn't come till puberty, and I've never let anyone see me do it.

I didn't know if the world was having some sick joke or not. First my being separated from my parents, and then being segregated from society even more by being cursed with super powers. How it happened, I don't know and don't really care. The only explanation I can think of is that my Mum's Amphetamine addiction somehow fucked up my genes.

So, the world is a fucked up place and I am a fucked up person with some freaky abilities. But you see, for a while I got hope. I always tried to stay up to date with international news, so that was how I found out about real life superheroes. Yes, Real Life Superheroes in New York. It was an internet hit in a matter of seconds; The famous Kick-Ass video of some guy in a green wet suit defending some other guy who was being beat up outside a doughnut joint with nothing more than a couple of green Eskrima sticks. Within weeks, real life superheroes were popping up everywhere. Kick-Ass never lasted long himself, he disappeared about a month later after some mobsters tried to stage a live execution alongside a big guy an Bat-suit. Kick-Ass was saved by a young gun wielding girl in a purple leather suit and wig. The superheroes didn't really have anything special about them; they were just people running about in home-made costumes fighting crime. Three years later, in present 2013, the superheroes were still here and Kick-Ass returned with Hit-Girl, as he later learned the purple juvenile hero was called returned. It showed me there was still some goodness in the world.

But then, it got fucked up again. I guess what Jim Gordon said in Batman Begins about escalation is true. Because, now there are Real life Super-villains. Once again that started in New York. The Motherfucker. He was a real nasty piece of work. Nearly ended it for everyone; in a way, he did. Everyone hung up their capes and masks. The Kick-Ass, Hit-Girl team was gone. Everything went downhill. Only problem was, the villains were still here and stronger than ever. But for me, for some stupid reason, even with my abilities, I never got involved, not until all the hype had faded.

-TheBreezeChronicles-

Even now, a week after running away from the hell hole I used to call a home, I still wonder if it was the right choice. Life hadn't been good there. Ever since the incident the others had regarded me as a freak, that included the adults and the other kids. Care workers. They didn't care. Let the kids run rampant, thieving, name calling, fighting. You name it. I tried to stay out of the arguments and rough and tumble games. When i did get involved, it didn't end well. After a couple of broken legs and arms people started to understand, I wasn't like them. I was different, more. I had to get away. So that's what I did. A brave man in a wet suit once said, with no power, comes no responsibility, but that isnt really true. I had no power over the legal situation of my housing, but that didn't mean that i didn't have the responsibility to change it.

With only two sets of clothes, civilian wear and a costume for something that was much less civilian in nature, I set off alone to make my way in the big bad world. Living off the streets and helping those in trouble. Yeah the hype had died down and being a hero was dangerous business, but just because those with masks had become deemed vigilantes, it didn't mean that we didn't need heroes. If anything, we needed them more than ever. The Motherfucker had started a villain revolution. Petty criminals had become something much more dangerous, something the Metropolitan with their flimsy rules and lack of weapons had yet to combat. A new breed of super hero had emerged.

Day seven on the street. It was stupid to be walking alone at night. Not many could creep up on me, and even when they did it was only a matter of seconds before I was able to incapacitate them, even without training my enhanced speed and tolerance to pain, as well as stamina and strength had its uses. There's a first time for everything.

The tip of the knife pushed very gently into the base of my neck, not quite enough to draw blood, but enough to give a pin point of pressure to let me know it was there.

"Any sudden movements and you're dead," came a male voice from directly behind me. I closed my eyes, focusing on my hearing. Three males, average build, tough. I could tell all that from their heartbeats and breathing patterns. It would be stupid to attempt fighting them off alone, there was only so far enhanced abilities could go.

"What seems to be the problem chaps?" I inquired, trying to sound as agreeable as possible, shifting slightly in the skin tight fabric I had on.

"You," the guy with the knife said again.

"What have I done?" I asked, coming across exasperated.

"You killed my kid brother two days ago, Nikki over there said he saw some looser in a costume punch him up real bad before stabbing him through the chest." The guy said, the knife pushing in to me harder, the mans voice breaking in several sections of his sentence .

"I suppose you wouldn't believe me if I told you it wasn't me?" I asked, knowing full well that I hadn't killed anyone. I hadn't even helped anyone more than a little old woman crossing the road yet.

"Not a chance," my assaulter seethed. The point of the blade digging into my neck and drawing blood.

"Well then, you leave me no choice," I sighed, flexing the muscles in my legs slightly.

"What do you mean, you're powerless," sneered my adversary. I turned my head slightly to the side, cocking it and not worrying too much about the knife point twisting into the soft flesh that lay under the hard neck of my skin, I healed quick enough that it wouldn't be problematic.

I ran. The pure speed of my legs knocking my assailant back a few steps. As i approached the wall in front of me i jumped, kicking off of the wall with both legs and soaring above my assailant, trailing one foot lower than the other so that it knocked the guys nose, the heel of my foot breaking it with a sickening snap. Twisting in mid air I landed in a low crouch, one leg splayed far back behind me, the other crouched up so that it was touching my chest. The odds were not in my favor. Three against one. Even with my heightened speed, night vision, strength and healing, there was no way I could win a fight against armed muggers without the appropriate training.

"Your gonna pay for that you little shit," the man I kicked snarled, his voice tight and nasally due to the damages his nose had taken.

They all advanced at once, the two that had remained silent, Nikki and some other vagrant I hadn't been informed the name of, coming in from the front diagonally, and the guy I had already fought coming at me from behind. This was already an impossible fight, and I wouldn't get knocked out easily.

The guy to my left lunged and i dodged out of the way, grabbing his arm and swinging him around so he careen head first into the wall behind me, his head hitting with a wet crack. Before I knew it two heavy weights felt like they had been pushed onto my back and I went down hard. The two sat on my back, keeping me securely on the floor, the one with the broken nose lifting my head up by my hair and pushing the blade of the knife against my exposed neck.

"It's time for you to die now, Hero," laughed the injured man.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you." A female American voice rang out across the alleyway.

I felt the weight on my back shift, the knife pushing deeper into my throat.

"What the fuck are you meant to be," laughed the knife wielder, his friend, Nikki, still quiet.

"I'm Hit Girl," said the girl shortly. My breath instantly caught in my chest. Hit Girl. The girl who was quite potentially my largest inspiration to done a costume and mask. She was saving my life.

"Fuck her up Nikki," The knife wielder snarled, his weight resettling again, turning his attention back onto me.

"Can you hold him boss?" The guy said, his voice shaky and unsure, remembering my agility and strength from earlier in my near escape attempt.

"Yeah boss, can you hold him?" I managed to choke out, my Adams apple bobbing dangerously close to the blade of the knife.

"Just fucking go," He practically roared. Immediately I noticed the weight that was settled on the small of my back lift up and move away. I let a grin play across my face. Now I had more than a chance. I heard the scuffle behind me and the moans of a man being assaulted in various unthinkable places.

I bucked violently, the brief second that the other man lost balance I twisted as fast as i could, flicking my arms out to wrap around the other man, squeezing him to me in a bone crushing hug that caused that the mans knife to clatter loudly to the ground. He started to beat against my back as i lifted him up, squeezing tighter and tighter, feeling bones crunch and pop out of their sockets under my powerful arms. He screamed out and I let him go, the man crumpling to the floor, unable to move due to the spinal injuries that he had been put through.

Sirens sounded in the distance, getting increasingly closer, apparent that they were heading straight for us.

"We need to go, now." Hit Girl said, extracting a throwing blade from her opponents neck, the man was quite dead. A large part of me didn't care. I nodded in response.

"Agreed, lets move." I said, giving the man at my feet a solid kick in the gut, eliciting nothing more than a small whimper.

Hit Girl scaled the wall with ease, disappearing over the top. I ran at the wall with top speed, jumping hard and leaping over the wall, landing on the other side with a roll. Hit Girl looked at me, her mouth opening in a little 'O'. Obviously shocked at the speed and jump that i had managed to pull off. She shook her head slightly, "Get on the Bike" she said quickly, dismissing the sight quickly.

I nodded, walking up to the Purple Ducati and pulling down a pair of blue and black welders goggles over my eyes, usually used to protect my supremely sensitive eyes to the usual harsh light of day. Hit Girl hopped on in front of me and gestured for me to wrap my arms around her waist. I swallowed hard, complying.

"Don't let go," She said, kicking the bike in to gear and speeding away from the scene of the fight.

-TheBreezeChronicles-

Hit Girls driving was crazy to say the least. With my arms wrapped around her as tight as I could manage without bruising her slender frame or breaking one of her ribs I was only just managing to keep on the bike. The girl weaved and wound through the traffic so simply at such high speeds she made it look like a game. Before long, we had arrived.

Hit Girls base of operations was nothing like I had expected it to be. An abandoned bunker in the heart of a middle sized suburb known as 'Uxbridge'. It was discrete, it was unexpected, it was completely brilliant.

"I like it," I said dismounting the bike, "cosy."

she gave me a small smile before becoming serious, "what was that back there?" She asked, taking a couple of steps back and eyeing me warily.

"What do you mean?"

"The strength, the speed, the jump and who's eyes glow like that in the dark?" She fired off quickly, gesturing to my eyes as I pulled off my goggles. I chuckled slightly, looking down with a slight smile, bringing my eyes up to meet hers from under my brow.

"You sure you wanna know?" I asked, smirking.

"Well, yeah, I'm pretty sure I fucking do," she replied, her hand settling warily on the hilt of one of her throwing blades.

I let my eyes drop and slowly nodded. "Then let me start right at the beginning." I said slowly.

I began to tell her my story. The story of a little boy who's father left his mother and child whilst still in pregnancy, after getting said mother addicted to Amphetamine's, the man eventually getting put into jail. The story of how the little boy's DNA got ultimately warped and twisted by the heavy exposure to drugs in the body, the Amphetamine becoming bonded on a molecular level to my bio-structure, not giving me the illusion of extra strength, but an in built athleticism and alertness. Focus in all senses becoming super alert, my body harder to damage. The story of how the little boy's mother died whilst he was half way out of the womb, having been taking Amphetamine's as she went into labor. The story of how the little boy grew up, oppressed and alone by the people around him, eventually leading him to run away, alone and depressed. In search of a purpose.

By the time I had finished my story, Hit Girl was shocked silent. She took a moment to digest the onslaught of information that I had provided her with.

"Dude," she finally managed to say, shaking her head, "I'm so sorry."

I smiled, lifting my head back up and letting my eyes meet hers. "Don't be, if none of that had happened, The Breeze wouldn't exist now. Who would be helping you protect London's streets." I gave her a grin, false bravado to mask my pain. I could tell she wasn't convinced.

"You can crash here if you want, Breeze." She gestured to the base behind her, knowing that I had no where to go, a child of the streets.

My heart felt as if it had stopped. I had met the hero of my inspiration, fought alongside her, and now she was offering me a place in her base, essentially her home.

I stammered for a response, gabbling over my words before finally settling on, "sure, that would actually be awesome."

The inside of the base was not what I expected. I had fooled myself into thinking that this place would be like the bat cave, a big computer, an extensive garage. Alternately, guns and various other pieces of weaponry lined the walls, an average desk top sitting next to a desk and a plain white sheeted bed. It was modest, other than the guns.

"Home sweet home," she smiled. "Its amazing what you can do with over three million Dollars." She grinned, gesturing to all the weapons on the walls.

"How long can I stay?" I asked, standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

She turned to me, twisting a flip knife in her hand, making it spin expertly around her palm and fingers.

"As long as you want" she grinned, throwing the knife over my shoulder so that it embedded in a human shapped target dummy, causing me to flinch and fall back in the process.

_**AN:**__** I would like to give great thanks to adm-frb for helping me with this. This is actually a re-write of the first chapter, changing up some major plot points and dynamics so that it worked a lot better. Reviews are welcome, thank you all for reading.**_


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